Undertow
by Cityhunterluv
Summary: Bowie knew he was dangerous. Nothing would ever change that, his undertow was strong..it drowned her, his contemptuous rage ignited by the sight of her.
1. Chapter 1

Holding her breath Bowie glared daggers into the cheap replica clock that hung the wall. The image of a creepily happy waitress that adorned it was a facade, it made her skin crawl.

As soon as the damn thing hit eleven p.m. the brunette exhaled a sigh of relief, it was time to leave. Being the last employee to leave and lock up never made the waitress feel comfortable, but she was trustworthy.

Green eyes scoped out the kitchen and dining area one last time to double check everything was off and secure before she dragged her aching feet towards the exit door. She was a slave to the tiny dive restaurant she worked at, doing twelve hour shifts in order to scrape by.

The brunette had just a few precious hours in between to get some sleep before it started all over again, which gave her no solice. The financially challenged woman felt older than her twenty five years, and was starting to look it too.

Pushing open the glass door to the outside world the first thing that registered beside the dread of a long trip home was the intense heat. The brunette extreme humidity suffocated the brunette and made her polyester blend uniform stick to her skin, it also made her feel sluggish and more tired.

Even turning to shut the door required effort, the tinkling of the rusty bells as Bowie pulled the door to simultaneously engage the lock grated on her nerves. She was tired of hearing it, nothing ever changed, the monotony was driving her crazy.

Trying to shake off the aggravation she walked towards her ride home, the subway. Stopping by a newsstand the brunette grabbed an evening newspaper to read so she could mind her business and not be tempted to divert her eyes on the subway.

After reading the headline her body turned to ice despite the lava that replaced her blood and overhead her frame.

LOS ANGELES TIMES: JUNE 2,1997..."HOTTEST SUMMER IN TEN YEARS EXPECTED TO SCORCH L.A. COUNTY THIS SUMMER."

Bowie quickly crinkled up the newspaper and stuffed it in her tote bag, she really had to get a move on. The longer the brunette stood around the more her chances of making home unscathed lessened.

Drug lords were taking over the streets, their capos were killing anyone who they thought were competition or a witness to the crimes they committed. This put Bowie in the latter category, not that she would intentionally try to get in the way of El Scorpio.

This was his part of town so to speak, it was no holds barred, but this hard working woman craved more out of her existence, and if she was dead there was no chance of making it out of this hell hole to see what else was out there for her.

Bowie almost.. almost let her mind drift off into the unknown.

The career waitress had a "bad habit" as her overly sarcastic boss would say of spacing out and literally forgetting what she was doing.

That was exactly what was happening when the squealing of tires that burned rubber up the semi deserted street slammed Bowie back down to earth.

Eyes burning from smoke rising off the blacktop the brunette was able to make out who it was. Indeed it was a crew of El Scorpio's men, they all had the same red scorpion painted on the sides of their cars.

Bowie crossed her arms tightly across herself and walked with purpose. Not too fast to draw notice, and keeping her eyes down only to look up for a few seconds at a time. Making eye contact with the wrong person meant trouble and as far as she was concerned her luck was running out.

If you could call it that, damned if she wasn't always finding a way to complicate her day. This was more serious than being late for work; or dropping a dish. If the gang members saw her, they might come back after to make sure she wouldn't be around to give the cops any information.

The uneasy feeling clinger to Bowie as she made her way to the subway entrance. _"What were they running from?"_ She half expected the Jamaicans to be hot on their tail, but they never showed. Her mind raced, it had to be _something._

By the time she made it to the subway entrance the brunette was ready to give herself a short breather. Untangling her arms the waitress took ahold of the iron railing to lean on for support and the combination of her sweaty hands and condensation on the metal was an accident waiting to happen.

It was too late, slipping forward her body gave into the gravity. That's when out of nowhere a man's voice came. "Watch yourself lady!"

Bowie turned to look at her savior and thought this had to be a joke. His well manicured hand was gripping onto her upper arm and he was so clean cut and crisp in his black suit. He was out of place, and instinctively the brunette knew she'd have been better off falling down the steps.


	2. Chapter 2

The second Bowie tried to get free of his grip he tightened it, her heart pounded beneath her flesh and adrenaline flooded her body.

Willing herself not to become hysterical and loose it the brunette had to keep her wits, wanting to seize any opportunity that could help her get away from him.

The scariest part of him was his eyes. They reminded Bowie of a shark's eyes, cold and ruthless. They were a dull blue, faded and held no signs of life. Not to mention the fact that he appeared out of nowhere, he truly was a predatory animal waiting in the shadows for the right moment to pounce.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice. Although he tried his best to sound calm and pleasant it came off as barely controlled rage, he was a ticking time bomb.

"You know it's not safe for a young woman like yourself to be out all alone in a city like this, why don't you let me take a ride with you."

Bowie knew if she agreed it would be the last ride she ever took anywhere, " _who the hell does this? Does he really think I'm that stupid?"_

The brunette asked the questions in her head which brought on another emotion, anger.

What was happening here wasn't o.k., and she was not going to play this game anymore.

"I'm fine, this isn't the first time I've taken the subway by myself you know." Bowie said with conviction while yanking her arm away from the blue eyed man.

She didn't even realize he was holding onto her so tightly, feeling the sensation of a rug burn as soon as their skin lost contact, her hand went numb from blood constriction leaving pins and needles in her fingertips.

The waitress's fight or flight kicked into overdrive and she spun around to make a run for it, and fast as lightning her captor snatched Bowie back by the straps of her tote bag.

He pulled her all the way back and slammed her into the brick wall of the subway entrance behind them so hard her head smashed against it. Her teeth chattered together and instantly the brunette's vision blurred.

Shoving his hand on her chest to keep Bowie against the wall the blue eyed bastard pushed hard enough to restrict her breathing. She was struggling so hard to right her vision, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Open your damn eyes! I have a few questions." His tone changed all of sudden, it went from anger to creepy sweet. "If you talk I'll be on your way, isn't that what you want?"

Bowie's eyes fluttered open and he got right up into her face.

"Seen anything or _anyone_ out of the ordinary. And I'm not talking about these run of the mill thugs that run the streets either."

She noted his emphasis on the word _anyone._

He was fishing for answers, it was almost like he was desperate for her to tell him something, but what? Damn it she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and this asshole was running the gambit of who was more of a threat to her right now.

Was it the drug kingpins, the gangs, or some mysterious foe that had him chomping at the bit? No, none of the above. It was _him._

The now exasperated woman tried to swallow, her mouth was so dry she found it hard to speak at first.

The sound of her own voice startled Bowie. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere else, like her mind was not inside her own body anymore.

"I don't know what you're talking about, let me go!" The brunette had enough of his rough treatment and with a strangled cry she frantically yelled out loud enough for it to echo off the subway entrance walls.

This caused the man to become infuriated, his evil eyes darted all around to survey the area.

Turning his focus back on the brunette he smiled deviously.

"Too late to go home now, you're coming with me."

Bowie watched in slow motion as he reached in his pocket to pull out a syringe filled with amber fluid.

Bowie didn't want to die like this.

It was like a switch flipped in her brain and the brunette lashed out, her body immobilized against the wall she grabbed at the man's face and dug her nails in to scratch and claw.

It took him by surprise for a second but he was too strong, he jabbed the brunette in her upper arm and pushed the plunger to inject the potent liquid that felt like fire spreading through her body.

"Fucking bitch!" Was the last thing Bowie heard before the blue eyed devil delivered a jaw cracking hit to her face.

###

Bakuub sat cloaked casually on his haunches on top of an ooman dwelling, his arm resting on his knee, observing. The crimson and tan colored yautja had no plans on intervening on the females behalf, the weak display she put on was deserving of her demise. He did however have the urge to jump down and crush both of their skulls, Paya he hated oomans.

The yautja chuffed to himself as he picked the dried blood of another useless inhabitant of this cesspool while he decided whether or not to kill the oomans.

This hunt was successful enough in his eyes, but to his old eccentric elder it wouldn't be.

This hunt was a _gift_ of sorts to Bakuub, from the elder who had a wicked sense of humor. Given to broaden his horizons and reward him with a little secret only the males of their species knew about.

Even thinking of it made the yautja hiss in heated anger, he would rather shred every female on this planet with his bare claws.


End file.
